The Longest Day

Sorry about the long absence, I just finished my last chemo this past week (and couple that with my low blood counts means that I have been in the hospital for the past week or so).

Anyways, I kind of want to finish recapping the beginning of my long journey to my current state before the 20th, which will be my third anniversary of surviving what feels like hell.

So, last you left me, I was crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, unable to pick myself up because I can’t feel my legs. I call my sister (who I didn’t want to call because she was literally preparing to move countries, the movers were going to be at her place in less than 24 hours, she had things to do!).

But I was desperate and I was freaking out, and it’s something I needed to do.

So I called her, she came as quick as she can (which was thankfully pretty quick). I was seriously trying not to freak out as I told her I couldn’t feel my legs.

Then came our even more trying moment, trying to get my 150 kilo ass up and mobile so she could take me down the five flights of stairs (I had thankfully tumbled down only a short flight of stairs), into her car, and to the hospital.

It was an almost impossible journey, my legs would not bend, fold, push, pull, or do anything – I have no idea how she got me down those stairs and into her car (some days I feel like she should have abandoned me).

Anyways, go to the hospital, get an X-Ray and an MRI and get no results really. So I got some meds, went back to my apartment…somehow climbed those five flights of stairs back up to my place.

My sister left me at the door ’cause she had to rush (it’s cool, I was also feeling confident that I was getting better).

Boy was I wrong.

I managed to somehow get to my room, the furthest one in the entire apartment, thanks to using the walls as a crutch – but as soon as I closed the door to my room…my feet got tangled with each other, and there I fell, door closed, no one in the house, my phone somewhere in my bag.

And I still could not get up.

I cried for a little bit, screamed in frustration a little, and then started belly-crawling to my bed, hoping that I could use it to leverage myself up.

It took me a good half-hour to make it to the bed, that’s how difficult it was to crawl fifteen feet to the bed.  It took another half-hour to get on the bed, ’cause it was one of those damn fluffy soft ones that you sink into (I hated that damn thing), so it didn’t hold me up as I tried pushing down.

Finally, an hour later, I managed to get onto the bed, fully clothed, exhausted beyond belief…

The days was not over yet though…


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